


Ignorance is Idleness is Bliss... or not

by Espisayer



Series: Idleness and Ignorance [2]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bickering, Childhood Friends, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Mild romantic drama, Post-Canon, additional background characters, background kaijou, some crude humor and cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:13:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27800563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Espisayer/pseuds/Espisayer
Summary: Ryou and Seto are childhood friends, but they've fallen out of touch for the last few years. A gathering at Yugi's house for the first time since high school will bring up some things that had fallen by the wayside: most notably, Ryou's incredibly stupid crush on Yugi, six years and counting.Or maybe not. Because Seto's an asshole.
Relationships: Bakura Ryou & Kaiba Seto, Bakura Ryou/Mutou Yuugi
Series: Idleness and Ignorance [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2195730
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	Ignorance is Idleness is Bliss... or not

“You look tired.”

“Hm.”

“How’ve you been?”

“Tired.” Seto tapped some ashes off of his cigarette and glanced toward Ryou. “You?”

He shifted on his feet, brimming with restless energy. “Tired. But… the kind of tired where I can’t actually get any sleep. University professors are really cruel, you know? So I just… spend the night counting the specks on the ceiling, and before I know it, my dad’s up at 5:00―”

“You still live at home?”

“Yes.” He hunched his shoulders a little. “It’s convenient. And I don’t trust him to that house by himself.”

“You’re turning 22 in a few months. It’s time to pull the plug.”

Ryou hummed and sighed. “You can say that because you don’t _have_ parents.”

“Yes,” Seto scoffed, “and because no one else will say it. You have an attachment problem.”

“You have a _de_ tachment problem.”

“We’re not talking about me.” He cast another sideways glance that felt especially soul-grazing. “And I take it this also means things are the same with you and Yugi.”

Ryou bit down on his lip to distract himself from the heat in his cheeks. “Can we make it about you? Because you’re not one to talk.”

The “Sure,” took him by surprise. “A few years ago, I broke down and asked Yugi a hypothetical question. ‘Would you make the choice to change a relationship if the results were unpredictable and the potential benefits were outweighed by the cons?’ _Yes_ ,” he said in response to Ryou’s derisive, twisted brows, “I know. Cynical―”

“I was going to say _clinical_ ―”

“―and I was sure he was going to throw back some idealistic nonsense about ‘following your heart’. Instead, he told me he wouldn’t have the confidence to change it, that some things were better left as they were.” He blew out the last remnant of smoke and dug the cigarette under his heel. “Which was not helpful. But it did tell me that he has absolutely no intention of confessing anything to you.”

Now Ryou’s cheeks burned brightly―not appreciated, he was already starting to sweat while they loitered outside in the air of a muggy June evening―and he tripped over his tongue several times before anything of value came out.

Where did he get off assuming… so much! His end was one thing, Yugi’s was another. And his delivery, really―

Nothing of value _did_ come out, in time for Seto’s sharp unclulmsy tongue. “Which means if you don’t say anything, you’re both going to die clutching onto this incessant _pining_ , which is unnecessarily sickening.”

He couldn’t imagine the last time he’d felt _spitting mad_ , but that dryness really set him over the edge. Unfortunately, Seto was already halfway into the doors of the game shop and he could barely string any words together in time.

“This―This is not making it about you!”

He had to wonder if Seto had timed this purposefully. Considering he couldn’t exactly yell at him about it with Sugoroku and Yugi and Jounouchi standing back there behind the counter, could he?

“Hey, Yugi, look―it’s the Domino High cryptids! Take a picture before they disappear again.”

“Oh, don't start.”

Ryou prayed the heat to leave his face before they made eye contact, watching Jounouchi jostle Yugi aside with his elbow and Yugi pushed back, mildly, with a laugh settling on the corner of his lips. Had he gotten taller? He was at Jounouchi’s shoulder now. He had to have gotten taller. But had it been that long since he’d seen Yugi? They both still lived in Domino, so if he hadn’t noticed until now―well, that was outrageous, wasn’t it…

He was so perplexed with himself that he had missed a question or two, so much that Seto was through with his clipped greetings and found it necessary to elbow him in the ribs. 

He started and hissed. “What―?”

Seto offered him an unimpressed look but it was Yugi that answered, waving from his peripheral, “Er, hey, Bakura. I… was just asking how you were doing?”

Ryou whipped his head around with what he was entirely sure was a _dumb_ smeared on his face. “Oh. Uhm, fine! I’m fine. Busy. But good.”

“Good.” Yugi hesitated, opening his mouth and then changing his mind, and then covering it up with an awkward laugh. “Why does it feel like it’s been so long?”

That was a good question.

That they shared the feeling might’ve offered some comfort if it hadn’t been for the wisp of a scoff from under Seto’s breath―something he barely noticed and only after he’d decided to walk himself out of the room. To abandon Ryou and let him flounder.

Ryou flung a look at him as if to say “You’re an awful friend.”

And Seto matched him to say, “I’m doing this for your own good,” which of course wasn’t true at all but he was doing it anyway. It almost struck him as a group effort when Jounouchi excused himself shortly after, skirting around the corner and into the hallway behind the counter with a dumb grin on his face.

Sugoroku remained, though, so he quickly pushed that thought out of his head so he could actually pay attention and respond to conversation like a normally-functioning person.

“Yugi, how long have I been telling you to get out of the house?” Sugoroku remarked. “You have too many friends to make excuses―at this rate you’ll turn into a hermit like your grandpa! You don’t want that, do you?”

“Grandpa, it’s not like that anymore,” Yugi bemoaned, glancing to plea with Ryou. “You know what I mean, right? Everyone’s off doing their own thing… Honda’s working, Anzu’s in New York, Jounouchi moved away to be closer to Shizuka―Kaiba and Mokuba are globetrotting―and… and you’re still in school, too, right?”

“Uh…” Normally-functioning person. “Y-Yeah.” Brilliant.

“Archeology. How’s that going?”

“It’s a lot.” The bright interest in Yugi’s eyes made him drum his fingers on the counters in a way that had to be so obnoxious. “I probably bit off more than I can chew, but… sometimes, I feel like I can’t focus on things unless I know it’ll collapse into an unbridled disaster if I don’t.”

Yes, he was quite normal, wasn’t he.

The only reason he didn’t spend much more time ruminating about how _he_ was the unbridled disaster that couldn’t spill out more nervous energy if he tried, was the fact that Yugi was carrying the same energy―that and the quirk in Yugi’s lip, the little crinkle in the corner of his eye, and his laugh.

His grandpa tutted at them, gave a brief lecture about Ryou’s choice of work ethic, and shooed them out of the storefront. Ryou let himself giggle with Yugi like they were children before he thought to ask, “Oh, er… what about you? Are you still doing classes online?”

“Ah…” Yugi glanced away. “It’s nothing exciting, really. But you didn’t come here to listen to me talk about stuffy business school, did you?”

“Oh, God, you’re right. I…” Ryou nearly walked into the corner as they reached the end of the hall and cursed himself. He sucked in a breath. “Happy Birthday, Yugi.”

That should’ve been the first thing he said when he walked in the door. But no, he’d been too busy shouting at Seto. Yugi smiled warmly anyway, and now he was more concerned with whether or not it was highly inappropriate to hug him―probably―so in a weak reset he ended up settling on a sort of hand-on-his-shoulder gesture.

“Uhm―” and here was his floundering coming out to visit finally, as he started to dig into the bag slung over his shoulder, “I’m really sorry. I didn’t forget or anything, I just―”

“Of course you didn’t,” Yugi laughed, “you’re here, aren’t you?” Their hands met where Yugi tried to stop him from dumping everything he was carrying onto the floor. “Really, Bakura, thank you.”

His brain seized.

He almost expunged all of the air in his lungs in a punch of relief when Anzu appeared at the other end of the hall, poking her head around and brightening like a light bulb.

“Bakura!” she squealed. He could feel a little less silly about himself when she nearly pulverized him with a hug. “I haven’t seen you in forever!” She did step back a bit suddenly and he had to laugh. “Sorry! I’m just―I’m so homesick. I couldn’t wait to see everyone again.”

“Oh… don’t apologize. I’m happy to see everyone, too.”

“She’s also gotten into the wine,” Yugi chimed in, which awarded him a slap to the arm.

“Just a little bit! And it’s _my_ wine,” she argued, pulling Yugi forward through the hall by the scruff of his vest which he complained about but did not fight. “C’mon, we’re doing presents first so we can get past the sappy stuff, and then you guys can play games and yell at each other for the rest of the night, or whatever it is that you do anymore.”

At that, Yugi glanced back at them, chirped, “Oh, that’s a good idea,” and then to Ryou, “Do you still play? Duel Monsters, I mean.”

“Uhm, sure,” he replied automatically. “Well, sometimes,” and then deflated a little, “not really. I mean, I still have my cards. I just… didn’t bring them.” Because of course he didn’t have the foresight to bring his cards to see Yugi of all people. “I-I haven’t had anyone to play with in a long time, so…”

Anzu smiled cheekily. “You can use my deck!”

Ryou blinked. “You play?”

“Everyone’s always so surprised. As if I could ever get away from it!”

Soon they were ushered into Yugi’s living space, the further side of the room sectioned off for a couch and adjacent chairs, surrounding a coffee table full of wrapped trinkets of various sizes, wine bottles, and several glasses. The couch currently was being occupied by Jounouchi and Honda fighting for territory, while Seto hovered _next_ to a chair, the way he did when he definitely wasn’t feeling comfortable but let it come across as overbearing instead (and the wine glass backed his theory up)―but even then, there would barely be enough room for everyone.

Seto had done him a disservice by rattling his nerves, because he had to try extra hard to shake that creeping out-of-place idea from his brain.

It didn’t turn into a production, somehow. Jounouchi and Honda made room for Yugi and Anzu placed herself in the further armchair, leaving Ryou the empty seat next to Seto.

“You’re a dick,” he hissed under his breath.

“You say that as if I’ve done anything I should regret.”

“Just wait.”

Seto smirked into his glass and, really, Ryou should feel insulted, but if Seto didn’t want to take him seriously that would be his problem.

Anyway, he refused a glass of his own while Yugi started on the pile laid out before him: a collage of brightly-colored gifts revealed souvenirs and clothes from New York, holographic Duel Monsters cards, homemade cookies from Shizuka with an apology card for not being there, etcetera―all of which, naturally, Yugi appreciated greatly.

Everything except for the prank gifts sprinkled in from Jounouchi and Honda that were… less than wholesome. Ryou would have appreciated the joke more if it didn’t have anything to do with Yugi (curse them, _curse them_ ) and he didn’t also have to follow it up. “Well, uhm.” He wiped his palms on his jeans with a derisive sigh. “Thanks for setting the bar low, I guess.”

“You’re welcome,” Jounouchi choked through tears in his eyes, holding his stomach while Honda produced a loud snort. Really the man would rip in half because he couldn’t get over the phrase “butt plug.”

Yugi eagerly shoved that particular set of boxes under the coffee table with his foot, clearing his throat but not the flush on his cheeks and waited patiently for Ryou to gather himself. Sometimes it wasn’t until he had to dig through his things that he was patently aware of how much of a mess he was. In general. (And Seto was no help. Another metaphor for the day.)

“It might not seem like much, but,” Ryou smoothed aside a flyaway hair from his eyes, reaching across, “I hope you like them.”

Probably confused by the compact size of the present versus the weight, Yugi handled it rather gingerly and let the mostly-intact wrapping paper fall to the wayside while he inspected the wooden box and clasp inside. The solid shuffling sound from inside must have prompted him to guess, “Cards?”

He held back a nervous smile. “Maybe.”

Yugi hummed and tilted his head, in that particular way that Ryou couldn’t handle but thankfully he decided to skip the rest of the guessing game and unhooked the clasp to find―

“Oh! Tarot cards!”

He held his breath. “Stop torturing me and just look at them, please.”

Quirking a smile, Yugi carefully let the cards fall out of the box into his other hand. It took him several moments of increasingly owlish eyes to realize, “Oh. You made these. Bakura, you _made_ these?”

Ryou tried not to laugh. “Yes. Well… technically, the art is mine and I had a manufacturer make them properly, but―”

“That’s―” Yugi’s voice cracked, “That’s so much trouble!”

“No, Yugi―really, it’s not,” he did laugh a little then, “I―I run an art store on the side, it wasn’t any more trouble than I’m used to.”

“You’re lying.”

He let himself have some selfish pleasure over watching Yugi shuffle through and ogle each card that was inspired by something from his Duel Monsters deck―Yugi, and then it made the rounds to everyone else in the room until he really thought he might flake away into a pile of ashes from the attention.

Lastly to Seto, who he had not made privy to this project, and who had the gall to remark, “You _are_ lying,” for which he was rewarded by having the tarot snatched away and handed back to Yugi.

“H-Happy Birthday,” he managed to say through his burning face, “again.”

Yugi stammered through a response that had Jounouchi and Honda ribbing him―literally―until he got up and leaned over the corner of the table to finish the awkward hug Ryou had almost started earlier. And his face was never going to go back to normal, was it.

Seto sighed loudly. “Okay. You’re making my stomach hurt.” Ryou couldn’t be sure if he was making another jab at him or if they had actually lingered an embarrassing amount of time, but it ended. Yugi blushed again and cleared his throat, again, straightening up and before Ryou could complain at Seto he had pulled a small envelope out of his pocket. “Yugi.” Never the most gracious gift-presenter, he only said, “This is yours.”

But Yugi didn’t expect much, maybe nothing from Seto so he gave a surprised, “Thank you,” and took it after a brief hesitation.

And then Ryou was handed a second envelope.

He made no attempt to hide his surprise or his stare. “What’s that?”

Whatever Seto was thinking, he didn’t show it. “I know it’s too early. Just open it.”

Too early? A birthday present? But why―

“It’s a plane ticket,” Yugi blurted on his other side. “To New York.”

Ryou whipped his head between the two, before snatching and tearing into his own envelope. He scanned the contents several times before his mind raced to a conclusion. “This… the return ticket is for a week later,” he said slowly.

Now Yugi flipped rapidly between the tickets for his own confirmation, until his eyes landed back on the gifter, at a loss for words. “It’s a―you’re sending me… us… on a vacation?”

Seto was unbothered by the weight of either of their stares as he took a drink. As if the answer was obvious, he replied dryly, “You both complain about wanting to go places, yet you haven’t set foot outside of Domino for years. It makes me sick.”

This was more deliberate than that. “Seto.” Ryou tried to control his breathing and it came out sharply through his nose. “I have school.”

“It’s the last week of July. You’ll be off.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“You―” Yugi stammered, “you really didn’t have to do all of this.”

“It’s nonrefundable,” Seto told him. “I’m not giving you the option to refuse.”

Oh, this was _so_ deliberate.

He was so intent on staring down his now ex-friend that Anzu’s chirp almost gave him a start from across the table, “Kaiba’s right, you two are going to grow mold at this rate. It’ll be so much fun! I can be a tour guide if you want, or if you’d rather go off and do your own thing―”

“Was this a group effort?” Ryou babbled, blinking wildly over Anzu and then scanning across the couch.

Jounouchi shrugged evasively, eyes darting away, and Ryou half-expected him to follow it up with a cartoonish whistle. Honda muttered something he didn’t catch because Anzu spoke over him. “Just be glad Kaiba had the sense to consult with me first. I talked him down from sending you to Alaska.”

Ryou was ready to sputter in Seto’s direction but Yugi’s arm fell on his shoulder―and as much as he wanted to throttle Seto for not just setting him up but shutting him in such a premeditated trap, Yugi’s face had lit up in a way he hadn’t seen in a while. The shock was wearing away into something of a cautiously excited gleam.

“I mean… they are nonrefundable…”

Ryou’s incredibly intelligent response to this observation was to nod his head and ignore the heat that had made its home in his cheeks.

“And, I mean… Anzu works, right? She can’t tote me around all day. And… my English is terrible.”

“Y-Yeah.” His head felt fuzzy. “I-I mean… I just… uh…”

“Well, o-of course, if you want to, then…”

He almost laughed out of delirium. “We don’t really have much of a choice, do we?” At least, he managed to cover up what might’ve been taken as sulking with a nervous smile. And he really, really couldn’t say no even if he had the opportunity when Yugi nearly did a little hop.

Seto nearly backed into the TV in his move around the chair to escape Yugi’s incoming gratitude―a gruff, “That’s _not_ necessary,” was enough to ward him off, but Yugi’s cheer remained undamped as he made another round of thank-yous and had an animated disagreement with Jounouchi over whether they would move onto dueling or food.

Ryou voted for Duel Monsters more emphatically than he had planned―he hadn’t dueled in years, really, and he’d intended on disappearing into the sidelines while the others went at it. It would serve as a nice distraction now, though.

A distraction from thinking about how he’d been baited into a weeklong vacation with Yugi and a more-than-likely absent Anzu: hook, line and sinker. Was that a date? That couldn’t count as a date if the couple in question wasn’t a couple and wasn’t made privy to the arrangement, could it?

God, his hands were sweaty.

He changed his mind about the wine, too.

Without the room or adequacy to rearrange the furniture into a suitable position, Yugi ended up pulling a kotatsu in from another room, enlisting Kaiba after Jounouchi and Honda had decided to be unhelpful to anyone except for their stomachs and made a dash for the kitchen.

Meanwhile, Anzu was trying to teach him how to use her Madolche cards―the common theme of shuffling back into the deck and however that was supposed to work to an advantage went over his head, but he wanted to blame that on… everything else.

Consequently, he found himself flailing. Flailing mentally while he kneeled at the table across from Yugi who was making unbearably confident plays with a souped-up Dark Magician deck, and flailing physically when he kept having to shuffle and drop cards all over himself. Anzu tried to coach him a bit, and it might’ve worked if not for Seto’s scathing commentary. Honda had made himself the referee and called foul on outside help, anyway.

Yugi looked positively guilty after winning three decisive rounds, even though Ryou knew he had held back several times. “I can use a different deck,” he offered.

“No, no, that’s…” Ryou absently adjusted on his shirt collar. “I would still lose. You’re as good as ever.”

“I’m sure you’re just rusty.”

“Don’t make excuses for him,” Seto quipped, "he knows what he's doing. In theory," and Ryou nearly snapped.

“If you’re going to stand there and talk shit all night then you should at least be the one dueling him.”

“I didn’t bring any cards,” he snarked back.

He couldn’t complain when Jounouchi graciously stepped in to heckle, “Kaiba Seto didn’t bring _Duel Monsters_ cards? Who the fuck _are_ you?” and punctuated that by jabbing Seto in the ribs with a fork, to which he recoiled and nearly spilled wine on himself.

Seto smacked his hand away with more force than necessary―missed thanks to Jounouchi’s foresight―and hissed in retaliation, “I wasn’t planning on staying this long.” 

“What, you were just gonna drop the tickets off and peace out?”

“I have other things to do.”

“So? You always have _things_ to do.”

“Sounds like excuses,” Ryou agreed, smiling when Seto’s lips thinned because while he could be unpredictable in the worst ways, everyone knew he had no tolerance for being challenged. “These things must not be that important if you’re still here, right?”

There was, maybe, a second or two of deliberation.

“Fine,” he snapped. “Move.”

He was too busy downing his drink to remember to be annoyed when Jounouchi slapped him on the shoulder, and Ryou scrambled and he took his place. The amusement at seeing Seto trying to situate his grasshopper legs on the floor twisted with the annoyance that his coordination to shuffle cards and launch into a duel with someone else’s deck didn’t seem to be hampered by the alcohol buzz. Or maybe it was because of the buzz.

But the bastard won.

Not only that, but he instead of gloating, he had taken it as yet another chance to jab a metaphorical fist in his ribs. And if not for Jounouchi and Honda distracting the participants by coming to an agreement that Seto should not be allowed to use a Madolche deck―despite their guffawing over the name _Puddingcess_ for the last forty-five minutes―Ryou might have snapped again.

“Hey, you okay?” Anzu asked, lowering herself to sit beside him, but only gaining his attention when she tugged on his shirt sleeve. The others had become absorbed in an argument, easily drowning them out.

He stiffened. And then he sighed. And then, he remembered Anzu was, apparently, part of the problem, so he stiffened again. “Not really… but I’m managing.”

Anzu pondered him for a moment and then drifted to rest her hand on top of his. “It’s kind of a lot, isn’t it? But don’t worry. It’ll be good for you guys.”

“Anzu,” he said carefully, as he began to bore into her eyes, “how many of you were in on it?”

She opened her mouth, but all the came out was, “Oh. Uhm…” She drummed her fingers on her thigh. “It’s just me and Kaiba. Really.” And then she rested her lips on her glass hesitantly. “We told Jounouchi and Honda about it, but… they don’t _know_.”

“Great. That’s just great.”

“Well, you didn’t want them getting sulky and asking why they couldn’t go to New York, too, did you?”

“No, I mean―” He sucked in a breath and hunkered toward her. “I don’t need either of you playing matchmaker for me!”

“I’m not! We’re not,” she insisted. “Listen, as far as you and Yugi are concerned, it’s just a vacation. You can make anything of it that you want.”

Anzu could try to be the face of reason all she wanted, but Ryou recognized that glint in her eye―he was just glad she didn’t wink at him or he might’ve died on the spot. But he couldn’t even tell her she was wrong, because technically, she wasn’t. Trying not to feel or look like he was sulking, he deflected. “Since you’re such good friends with Seto now,” he hissed, “maybe you should try setting _him_ up.”

She grimaced and bit down a laugh. “Are you kidding? I’m not touching them with a 10-foot pole.”

At least they could agree that Seto was more of a disaster than he was. (He was just better at hiding it.)

“Especially not after last year.”

Ryou stared at her for a moment. “Last year?”

“Yeah. They…” Anzu met his confused gaze and frowned. “He didn’t tell you.”

He pursed his lips. “Seto doesn’t tell me anything.”

At least not after everyone started drifting apart.

“Oh. Well. It’s not like he told _me_ anything, either,” Anzu said quickly, now interested in a piece of lint on her skirt. “Jounouchi did.”

“What?” She took a drink and he tried to lean further into her vision. “Anzu. _What_ happened?”

“Hey,” she shouted suddenly, setting her glass down and abandoning her seat on the couch, “Honda, don’t touch my cards unless you want my foot up your ass!”

Honda promptly dropped them with a “Shucks, sorry, Mom!” and then darted for the hallway when she came near.

Steeling himself against a body-long sigh, Ryou drank what was left of her glass.

For the life of him, he could not begin to fathom what must’ve happened “last year.” No notable events came to mind, no changes in Seto’s mood in the sporadic days in between months when they did keep in touch.

What should’ve given him away was his interactions with Jounouchi, but Ryou found their minutiae difficult to read with so much of it buried in squabbling. He did think Seto was downright mild tonight (to the others, at least), indulging in several of Jounouchi’s antics―or at least letting him get away with it―including the idea of borrowing his deck and only becoming agitated after learning partway into the next duel that the extra deck had been left at home.

Yugi shared, or tried to share, good-humored looks with him throughout―they were bickering more than paying attention to Yugi―and Ryou knew he had to be missing something and that got under his skin.

By the third duel, Seto started to get cagey, and after it was over he complained of being stiff and unceremoniously excused himself from the room. A little buzzed himself, Ryou thought it was a good opportunity to corner him while Jounouchi took over the table.

Outside, Seto eyed him while he did his best to smile innocuously. “What?”

“Just needed a breather.” He shut the back door to the kitchen behind him. “You know, since you snapped me in a fucking mouse trap.”

Seto “humphed” and lit a cigarette after fiddling with the lighter. “You’ll thank me later.”

The corner of Ryou’s mouth twitched but he bit down on his tongue for a moment. “How long ago did you start smoking again?”

“I never technically stopped.”

“You were doing well for a while.”

He exhaled in exasperation and a cloud came with it. “It’s an idle habit.”

“You mean a nervous habit.”

Seto’s jaw tightened like the word insulted his being. “I don’t get nervous.”

“Does Jounouchi still smoke, too?”

His back straightened. Ryou had wondered how long it would take. “Are you insinuating something?”

“Maybe. I can’t do much _more_ than insinuate when I’m left out of the loop,” Ryou said, leaning back against the door. “I can share my theories with you, unless you want to catch up your _best friend since elementary school_ on whatever happened with Jounouchi.”

The tension crawled back into Seto’s shoulders and the cigarette dripped ashes onto the concrete, forgotten in the midst of a stand-off. He did his best to remain steely from head-to-toe but Ryou knew his ticks too well. “What are you talking about?”

“Anzu told me something happened ‘last year.’”

“Nothing happened.”

“Seto.”

“ _Nothing_.”

“You’re so full of shit.”

“It’s nothing worth talking about,” Seto snapped, though the alcohol was dimming his glare and highlighting his discomfort. “I ran into him at a tournament in California. We had drinks, we almost slept together―”

“ _You did wh_ ―” Ryou almost choked on his own spit.

“ _Almost_ ,” he spat, but heat rose in his face as if he was just realizing this was a terrible argument, though he continued nonetheless, “and I’ve barely spoken to him since! Nothing happened, nothing _is_ happening, and―”

“Oh my god.”

“ _What?_ ”

“This officially makes you worse than me.”

“Fuck off, Ryou.”

“No, no, listen to me―” Seto’s face had screwed into a scowl but Ryou held his shoulder while he came upon a realization, “―I’m pretty sure this means Jounouchi’s been flirting with you all night.”

“No, he’s― _stop_ ―” He was promptly shaken off. “I don’t need you reading into things! Leave it alone.”

“Seto, you are such a fucking idiot.”

“This is why I didn’t say anything to you.”

“Yeah, I know why―don’t want to admit you’re a hypocrite, do you?”

Something about the way Seto was looking at him threatened incineration, but Ryou had him now―he slapped a patented innocent smile back on his face and slunk back into the house before Seto’s alarm bells went off and he dropped his cigarette.

“Ryou!”

“You have this coming, Seto!”

He came to a stop in the doorway to the living area, just in time to meet everyone’s stares.

“Is everything alright?” Yugi asked from the floor, setting his cards down.

“Peachy,” Ryou chirped. “Hey, so who wants to hear about how Seto had a really bad, stupid crush on someone in high school?”

He didn’t have as much time to take in their reactions as he would’ve liked―a few snorts, awkward laughter… Jounouchi was quiet―because he had to focus his mental energy on the fact that Seto was right behind him in the narrow hallway with a claw in the back of his shirt, hissing low―

“ _I’m going to kill you―_ ”

His only saving grace was that he was far less intoxicated, and managed to squirm out and duck around Seto’s frame, and once he was sure he wasn’t going to get his shirt ripped in the process he sprinted back off down the hallway. Vaguely, he registered voices shouting and clambering after them but he knew he was going to have to rely on his mental map of Yugi’s house… which he wasn’t overly confident about.

He really would just like to get away with this without getting strung up by his ankles.

A little bit of luck―or karma, he would like to think―when Seto tripped over himself on the stairs let Ryou slip out of view on the second floor. In a meager attempt to think a step ahead, he decided to duck inside the first door he came across, hoping Seto would storm past it.

Except it wasn’t a room. It was a closet.

And it opened up to unleash an avalanche of old knicknacks, clothes, and dusty holiday decorations onto the floor and he couldn’t possibly cover his tracks now―but he panicked. He blamed the wine for deciding to step over the death trap and struggle to pull the door around it. Something jagged and ceramic dug into his hip but he had to hang onto the doorknob to keep it shut.

Later on, probably tomorrow, he would realize how ridiculous this really was. If looks could kill, he’d be in trouble, but the worst Seto would do was not talk to him for a week. For now, he held his breath and tried to ward off the dizzy spell, struggling to listen to the overlapping voices from downstairs.

It felt like he’d held that half-crouch for about half an hour, by the time a soft rap on the door startled him.

“Bakura?”

Yugi. It was just Yugi.

He cracked the door open―nearly let go and went careening into the floor―and tried to be casual. “Uhm. Hi.” Yugi cracked a smile while he leaned on the door frame and mentally bemoaned his achy thighs. “So… stealth isn’t my strong suit.”

“M-Maybe not.” Yugi’s shoulders shook and his voice warbled with giggles. “You sure can run, though.”

And Ryou couldn’t help it, something in his stomach pulled and snapped and he slumped against the wall, down to his knees in the mess with barely-contained laughter. He thinks he promised to help clean it up, but Yugi kneeled down with him and they stayed transfixed in a fuzzy state of hysterics for a while.

That catastrophe harkened an end to the night―but Ryou couldn’t feel bad about it, maybe enjoyed it a little, except that Seto had left in midst of the commotion. His worry, however, was swiftly replaced by a dubious mirth at the next tidbit that Jounouchi had volunteered to drive him home.

Well, no one else seemed concerned about it, so he figured that was Seto’s problem.

Anzu continued to giggle in fits and coo goodbyes until Honda walked her out the door, and then… that just left him and Yugi.

“Uhm―” Yugi said suddenly as Ryou was lingering in the front of the storeroom, “so, uh, it’s pretty dark out… You might as well stay over.”

“Oh. I-It’s okay. I only―I’ve walked here before. I mean… not from my house, but…” He didn’t know what he was saying anymore. “I-I didn’t bring any clothes…” 

Yugi blinked at him, and if there was a solution, he didn’t offer any. “No dress code.” He shrugged his shoulders, unruffled―even less than normal with a light blush on his cheeks and a gleam in his eyes. “I was just thinking… I was thinking about next month, and―” he took a breath, “―it’s a whole week! It’s―I’ve never been to America and I have no idea where we would go, but we could turn it into a road trip. Or something. I don’t know. Maybe that’s stupid. I wanted to talk to you about it… so, well, you might as well stay!”

Ryou opened his mouth. And closed it. Vaguely, a voice in the back of his head whispered, “Self-sabotage,” and well. He couldn’t call Seto a hypocrite and also tell Yugi he didn’t want to stay and talk until they lost their voices at 3:00 in the morning… or however they would last.

“Okay,” he said hoarsely. And Yugi smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried my best to lean on the "show and don't tell" so instead of having heavy exposition or descriptions it was more back-and-forth dialogue which was fun. I can't tell if it's shifted my writing style or if it just worked out for this one. But I had an ungodly amount of fun writing this.
> 
> ((Side note, I wasn't able to get to it just in this premise, but Yugi's got his own shit going on.))
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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